at a chain multiplex by the interstate that's conveniently Hooters adjacent. [True!]
Will I be the only one in the theater?
You see, the 'Fesser and I went to see Up in the Air at the same joint recently and had the place to ourselves. Sorry, Reitman.
No such luck this time out. I shared Tom Ford's strong clear vision with one other single woman and a [heterosexual!] 50something couple whose whole self-congratulatory mien just screamed, "We are open-minded supporters of public radio!" Oh, and, "Nevertheless, we will rudely talk through the ENTIRE MOVIE as though we were in our living room because we are old and inconsiderate."
Wow, Tom Ford would fucking HATE this.
You can art-direct the fuck out of your film, but you still have no power over the trailers that precede it. Case in point: Upon entering the theater I was assaulted by the preview for upcoming animated abomination Despicable Me. Indeed. Fat kids. Shudder. Oh, child-having parent-friends. I am so sorry.
Ford might be OK with Brooklyn's Finest. Snipes looks great in jewel tones. Cheadle's a little bit of all right. Richard Gere, um, BreathlessArmanihello? And he'd make Hawke shave but would probably approve of his overall gaunt look.
The Date Night trailer was presented in the wrong aspect ratio/using the wrong lens, stretching out Steve Carell, Tina Fey, even Marky Mark -- saints preserve us -- and making them look FAT.
As far as the Babies trailer? Breeders. Shrug. Whatever. On to A Single Man itself. Excelsior!
- This movie is a Fade to Black and a Depth of Field production? Really? Have we learned nothing from Coco Chanel? Take one thing off before you go out the door.
- Jump cuts. J ump cut s. Ju mpc uts. I get it, pal.
- I just realized who Firth looks like shot in sepia [and he is shot in sepia in EVERY present-day reverse shot because he is SAD]: Chris Cooper. Discuss.
- And let's not get into how many times he's shot through glass. Brotherman even lives in a glass house. Speaking of which...
- Apparently, I have been going about this whole teaching literature to college students thing ALL WRONG. Perhaps if I had a clothing/sports car/architecturally pleasing domicile allowance. Or even one that kept me in vintage Hershey bars, Bayer aspirin, and desk-drawer handles of booze.
- The whole Psycho[man]candy magic-hour bit was pretty. Although, Psycho, released in 1960, still advertised on an LA building's facade on what titles have told us is Friday, November 30, 1962?
- Whooo boy. Nicholas Hoult. So pretty now! Still stuck in unfortunate sweaters, though, I see.
- Oh, Tom Ford. La Wally? For George's suicide soundtrack on the sweet hi-fi? Please do not intimate to me that all you know about opera you learned from the shiny surfaces of Diva.
- Nicholas Hoult doing an American accent. Julianne Moore doing a British accent.
- Speaking of Ms. Moore, I kept wishing she'd trill "Que ridicolo!" [Or sleep with her son.] But let's not talk about the way Ford shot her lovely ginger visage. I'll get mad all over again.
